Project Icarus
by D.O'Brien
Summary: Five strangers are invited to a tournament on a private island in the pacific. There, they are pitted against hundreds of other competitors in a virtual fantasy world, all of them vying for the grand prize of ten million dollars.
1. Chapter 1

His head was ringing.

It had to be. Nobody called him anymore, so it must be his head. Or in it. He was sure that the entire bottle of whiskey from last night was making its triumphant return, and demanded such fanfare. At least, he WAS sure. Until the ringing had stopped.

Slowly pulling his mangy blonde head from the depths of his pillow, Adam managed a groggy glance at his cellphone. 1 missed call.

Weird.

Calls were things people that talk to people get, and Adam certainly did not talk to people. He hadn't time for such trivialities. People were loud. People were depressing. People called him at times when he did not want to be called. People are-

Wrr wrr.

...What? A text, right? That was what a text message alert sounded like, right? Without voicemail, he could ignore a phone call. But a text? He'd have to read a text eventually. Whoever was on the other end was diabolical.

Finally climbing out from under his nonexistent covers and into the sunlight of the afternoon, Adam picked up the phone, thumbed it open, and read.

And read.

And re-read.

And his phone rang again, as the message stated it would. He scrambled to answer it this time, coughing out a garbled, "Uh... Hello?"

A voice on the other end, clear and well versed, repeated the message. It assured him that this was not a joke, and that he should be ready to go in about two hours. Adam thanked the voice as they hung up.

"...shit. Ho. Lee. shit." He said to himself, scratching his head. "I need a shower."

* * *

><p>Water came pouring down in drops big enough to fully excuse the expression "Raining cats and dogs." It splattered the rooftops and sky scrapers with cold, hard wetness, the streets below flowing with the run off. People ran in between it all, not caring about the downpour. Seattle was pretty much known for its rain, after all.<p>

"Grey." Is the word that went through Connor's mind as he walked through the mire of people starring at their shoes.

He wiped his glasses clean of the rain as he stepped through the thick oak wood doors. His sopping wet hair dripped onto his face enough for him to resort to shaking his head like a dog. Not such a good idea when entering a library.

"Dude," a light voice giggled in front of him. "You're gonna drench the books if you keep that up."

"Keep what up? This?" He nodded his head forward hard enough to spray the voice. She screamed and giggled and punched him in the arm as he put his glasses back into his face. Sarah appeared before him, all pink hair, perfectly tight t-shirt and a shining smile to boot.

"I just got my hair dry, you jerk!" She said, playfully ruffling his hair. Conner swatted her hand away with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, what a tragedy. How goes the book keeping?"

"Same as always. Boring." She sighed as they walked past the front desk, waving to her co-worker.

"Oh c'mon. It's not so bad."

"Says you! While I toil away here in this prison of shelves and book return notices, you get to roam free."

"I'd hardly call it a prison. More like..." He paused to pull a book from a shelf. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. "An adventure at every turn."

Sarah took the book from him and put it back in its place. "I don't want to read about adventures. Not anymore. I wanna live them, Conner! I wanna be out there, sailing across the seven seas! Or dueling with an English lord for my true love's honour. Or escaping ancient ruins, being chased by the cursed corpses of fallen adventurers!"

Conner laughed as he watched her, running between the shelves, disturbing patrons. He caught her in the children's section and promptly sat them both down on a beanbag chair.

"Did I hear something about defending my honour in that incredible rant, Ms. Harper?"

"Oh? Why Mr. Halloway, whomever said that I was talking about you?" She giggled, gave him a quick peck on the nose and said, "I've gotta get back to it. See you tonight?"

He nodded and headed back out into the rain, his phone ringing in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Greetings, Mr. Halloway. I have a proposition for you."

* * *

><p>The roar of the crowd. The flood lights shining down on his face. His breath flowing in thick clouds out of his helmet. He twirled his lacrosse stick in one hand, pointed at the other team with his other, then drew his thumb across his throat. Highly over dramatic, of course, but that's just how he likes it.<p>

The ball came sailing at him and he caught it, flicked it to a teammate, and without a second thought, bashed the nearest opposition in the head. He pivoted, shifted his hands to the end of his stick and swung round to his left, clothes-lining another player. Seeing their fallen, two more rushed at him, sticks ready. He parried the left, dodged the right, sidestepped between them, and yelled, "Now!"

His team followed, ball in possession, with him leading the charge straight through the other's defence. The cold air biting. The flood lights blinding. The huge grin stretched across his face.

After a rousing hour of him literally pummeling the opposition, David strode to his sedan at the end of the lot. The evening air cold on his sweat soaked t-shirt, he climbed in and drive off without a word.

"Crazy bastard..." He had overheard one of his teammates muttering to another. "Just glad that monster's on our side, eh?" They laughed and pulled a beer cooler outta the trunk of a pickup.

He ignored them, as per usual. There he was, giving them a damn good defence the best way he knew how; by playing offence. And there they were, laughing at him. David scoffed. So much for that no "I" in team bull.

It didn't really matter in the end, though. All that did matter was that he got to play on a team again. Got to play for a team.

David got to his apartment and, after a hot shower, settled in for a quiet night in his shitty basement apartment.

Until his phone rang.

"Hello?" He grumbled.

"Hello, ." A velvety smooth, yet very masculine voice answered. "I have a proposition for you."

"...Who is this?"

"A... spectator. And as I understand it, you're looking for a new team."

"If you're some sort of scout, I don't want to go pro. Too much bullshit."

The voice laughed. "So crass, even in the face of opportunity." He paused. "No, I'm not a scout. At least, not for any silly professional sports. I have a proposition that may interest you."

"Look, if you're gonna dance around the subject, I'm hanging up. Get on with it."

"How about ten million dollars?"

Silence.

"Well, that caught your attention, didn't it, ?" He laughed. David could feel the voice's toothy grin through the phone. "A private competition, and the winning team gets the money. Ten million each, of course."

Countless thoughts sprinted about David's head, all screaming at him at once.

It's a trap.

How does he know my name?

Is this even legal?

"What kind of competition?"

* * *

><p>AN: Hello all! Long time reader/reviewer/editor, first time author. I would very much appreciate feedback of any kind. I'll do my best to post a new chapter on the Friday of every other week.  
>Thanks for reading!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Conner sat, head cradled in broken hands, in the hospital. Tears wouldn't come to him. Not after all that. He just sat there, unmoving. Waiting. For her.

A knock at the door. A red-haired voice in a suit.

"Mr. Halloway."

No response.

He continued. "I'm with Project Icarus. You received a call from us yesterday. We heard about what happened, and think we can help."

Connor scoffed.

"You think you can help?" He didn't look up. "Nobody can help. Not after... Not after-"

"Our offer still stands. Compete, and we can make this go away."

"But you can't do anything about her!"

"But you can. If you win..."

"And if I don't?"

The man shrugged. "But you'll never save her if you don't compete."

A silence fell upon the hospital room, pierced only by the slow beating of a heart monitor.

* * *

><p>The ship rocked gently next to the dock, its pristine white hull managing to shine, even in the grey of the overcast morning. A car rolled up next to it, and out clambered a boy in handcuffs.<p>

His hair was dark and unwashed, his hoodie dirty and full of holes. He quietly smirked as a man in a suit took him by the arm and led him up the ramp. He sat him down in the hold.

The room itself was nothing pretty. Windows lined either side, allowing full view of the approaching storm. The seats were lined up like in an airport terminal, rows of them back to back filling the whole room. A door at one end led outside, to the main deck. Two more in the back were labelled washrooms. The last led back out to the dock, which the suit closed behind him.

The kid watched as he left, the smirk never leaving his face. As soon as the door closed, he scrambled up and started to slip his bound hands under himself. He got one leg through when he noticed the other person in the room.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. His muscled arms flexed of their own accord as he stood and stretched the last bit of sleep out of his system. Seeing someone else seated across from him, handcuffed with his arms between his legs, he said, "Hi. I'm David." and held out his hand.

The kid gave him a look, then looked down at his hand trapped between his legs. He shook his hand, "Josh."

"You need some help?" David asked, sitting back down.

"Nah, I got it." Josh slipped his other leg through and sat. He scanned the empty room. "Didja wait long?"

David shrugged. "Few hours."

"...You do time?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you do any time? Like, in prison."

David shook his head.

"You look like you could crack a few skulls. And you didn't think twice about..." He shook his cuffed hands.

David shrugged again. "The way I see it... If you're here, you must be good at whatever it is you do. Or... Maybe not good enough, seeing as you got caught." Josh snickered. David squinted in thought, then said, "...Shoplifting?"

Josh grinned. "Pick pocketing and grand theft auto." He pulled a pair of keys out from his sleeve.

David mock applauded. "When'd you manage to get those?"

"As soon as he cuffed me."

"Must be fun."

He unlocked his handcuffs. "You have no idea."

The door burst open. Rain came pouring in, followed by a flash of lightning from the sudden storm. Another kid stumbled in, this one soaked to the bone. His hair drenched and sticking to his glasses, he stood, panting, in the doorway and stared.

"Dude, close the door!" Josh exclaimed.

"I thought..." He stammered. Looked about the almost empty room. "I thought I was late."

"You are." Another man in a suit, this one with a shock of red hair. "But now that the last of our passengers have arrived, we can leave." He walked to the centre of the room, gesturing to a seat. " ."

Conner took his seat, a blank stare in his eyes. Josh eyed the newcomer, almost forgetting to keep his hands behind his back to hide his newly acquired freedom.

"Just the three of us?" David inquired.

"And one more, asleep below deck. Please, make yourselves comfortable, and get to know each other. I will return later to show you to your rooms."

"Rooms?" Josh piped up. "Just how long is this little trip you've got us on?"

The suit grinned. "About a tenday." He turned to leave.

"Wait! Is that like ten days, or a week or something?"

"Something like that." He shut the door.

Josh fidgeted. He did not like the idea of being stuck on a freaking boat for tendays. A ten day. Whatever.

"...screw it." He got up and, pocketing the cuffs and key, ran to the window opposite the door. He popped the latch and hopped out.

"Aren't you gonna go after him?"

David almost didn't hear him. His voice was quiet and strained, like he hadn't used it in a while. He shrugged. "Kid like that wouldn't be here if he was just gonna leave. The money's too good. Besides, we already left port." Sure enough, the docks were already far behind them. The ship rolled over the waves so smoothly, neither of them would have noticed otherwise. "I'm David, by the way."

"Conner."

"Well then, Conner. What can you do?"

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he jabbed his thumb at the window. "Josh thinks he's some sort of urban ninja. I've been in full contact sports since I was a kid. You don't look like either of those. No offence." Conner shook his head. David continued, "Whatever this... competition is, I thought it'd be all physical. But now..." He shrugged.

Conner hadn't thought about that. He never even asked what it was he had to do. What if he couldn't do whatever it was? What if he lost? If he couldn't... Sarah...

"...dammit."

"Woah, umm... Look, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"No." Conner shook his head clear, wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "No. It doesn't matter now. I'm here, and whatever they have us doing, I'm going to win. I have to win."

David silently gave him a pat on the shoulder and a solemn smile. He'd seen this kind of conviction before. Guys whose entire lives depended on getting that sports scholarship. They got a look in their eyes when their "Big Game" reared its ugly head. When the game wasn't just a game anymore. He'd seen them fight tooth and nail and play their best. But he'd also seen guys like that break when it mattered most. Guys like Conner.

_Guys like me_, He thought.

* * *

><p>Josh pulled his hood up as he bounded away from the window and ducked under a set of metal stairs. A pair of crew members walked down, grumbling about the rain. <em>Probably leads to the... Steering wheel-thing. Whatever<em>. He cringed at his own mixed-up thoughts.

Watching them turn the corner, he slipped through a heavy metal door and down a set of stairs to the cabins. His stomach gave a soft growl. He knew they'd probably feed him if he asked, but his fingers were itching to snatch something. Sure, being a pick pocketing street urchin was totally cliché, but that didn't matter to Josh. All he cared about was the thrill.

Voices and the clanging of plates echoed down the hall, too many for him to go unnoticed in there. He nudged open the closest door to him and peeked in on a dark room, three snoring lumps on the cots within. The next was empty, of people and affects alike. As he got closer to the door to the mess hall, laughter erupting from beyond the doorway. Someone, the ginger suit from before, stepped out into the narrow hallway. He straightened his jacket and tie, clearly irritated from the rowdiness of the crew. He scoffed and headed down the hall, toward the only exit. Josh, quickly spotting him, slipped into the nearest room, hugging himself close to the inner wall, a grin on his face. It was times like these, the close calls and held breaths, that Josh found it hardest to keep his mouth shut. The urge to chuckle at the rush of it all was always almost too much. Almost.

He waited, quiet and calm. No sounds from the hall, except for the ruckus from the kitchen. He risked a peek outside. Empty hallway. Josh let out a slow breath. Then stopped. Shuffling behind him.

He spun just as the lights came on. He jumped back, knocking the door shut. Panicking, he turned to run and tripped on his own feet. He landed, curled up on the floor out of pure embarrassment. _Well_, he thought, _that was a stupid way to get caught. Idiot._

"You okay?" A groggy voice, not anything like the stuck-up guards or anyone of authority. Josh looked up to see a wife-beater and a pair of ruined jeans on a pale, lanky young man. Older than him, for sure, but not by much. His blonde hair was long and straight, like curtains around his angled face.

"Fine, thanks." Josh sat up and crossed his legs, scanning the room. A few bags, a guitar case and the one mirrored dresser made up the small room. A porthole just above the cot on the far end. "Just lookin' around for some food. Guess this isn't the kitchen?" The guy smirked.

_Well, at least he's got a sense of humour_, Josh thought to himself. He got up and made for the door, listening for footsteps on the other side.

The other guy shook his head, took a second to himself, then said, "You one of my teammates?"

"What?"

"For the competition. You're not one of those weird CIA guys, and I don think the crew would hire a kid-"

"I'm not that young, dude. I can work if I wanted to."

He got up and stretched, going to a large duffle bag. "Name's Adam. And you are...?"

"Josh. Your new teammate, apparently."

"Nice to meet you, Josh." He took out a leather belt and a pair of socks and started putting them on. "Mind passing me that?" He nodded at a silver flask, sitting on the dresser. Josh gave it a good, long look before tossing it over. It was engraved with some sort of foreign lettering, bordered around a symbol; one half of a broken sword, cracked like a lightning bolt.

Adam caught it, popped the top and swigged it back like it was nothing. He pocketed it and shoved Josh out the door. "C'mon, let's get you some food."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Sinclair."<p>

"Hello, Thomas. How are you on this fine evening?"

"We've left port from Seattle, sir. Everyone you requested is on board-"

"Must you be so impolite with your employer?"

"...my apologies, sir."

"You are forgiven. It's so hard to find good help these days, and you're one of the few I actually like."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Tommy-boy?"

He cleared his throat. "The group you've assembled?"

"Ah, yes. How are my little guinea pigs? Hmm. Is that too cliché?"

"Not at all, sir. They're asleep now. Had a problem earlier with Fear and Reed. Seems they don't like each other very much."

"Oo, feisty, are we?" He laughed. "They'll work it all out sooner or later. Or they'll lose me a lot of money. Either way, the next little while is gonna be fun."

He paused. "Of course, sir."

"That will be all, Thomas."

"Yes sir."

"Ta ta." Thomas hung up, leaned on the railing and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

* * *

><p>AN: So... Early update. These chapters are taking less time than I expected so, lol. Can't promise that this'll be a reoccurring thing, but maybe I can post every Friday, instead of every other.

...Maybe.

Lol thanks for reading! Review so I know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Project Icarus Chapter 3

Adam leaned over the railing, arms crossed, breathing in the salty air. He closed his eyes, tired of the ship and the empty horizon. A fog had surrounded them all morning, so it's not like he was missing much anyways. He listened to the pounding of the waves against the ship as it rolled over them, creating an odd, rocking rhythm.

_Yo ho, haul together_

_Hoist the colours high_

_Yo ho, thieves and beggars_

_Never shall we die_

"Tis bad luck ta be singin' about pirates in this cursed fog."

Adam didn't move. "Right series, wrong movie." He smirked as Josh was taken aback. "And you're not as sneaky as you think."

"You weren't even a little surprised?"

He shrugged as he turned, the foggy view boring him again. "So, Captain says we're arriving today. Excited?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm ecstatic," Josh waved him off. He pulled the hood of his sweater up to shelter his ears from the cool winds. "Listen, you need to talk to the big guy. If we're all gonna be working together-"

Adam scoffed. He'd been avoiding that brawny bastard since their first meeting in the hold- which ended in a full on "scrap." At least, that's how Josh put it.

He started to the mess hall. His stomach had been demanding food since he woke up, and he couldn't only ignore it for so long. _And I won't have to put up with this teamwork crap._ He thought.

"I didn't even do anything wrong, so why should I apologize?"

"Oh, sure," Josh started. "You only insulted him, his career choice, and his uncanny ability to whoop your ass."

"Shut up!" He kept walking.

"We're all here for the same reason, right? The competition, the money, is important to all of us. I mean tall, red, and brooding hasn't told us anything about it, so we've only got each other."

"That's some great sentiment, but the last team I was in screwed me over." Adam stopped in his tracks, a shadow falling over his face. "So I'm not exactly eager to open up to you. I don't even know you."

He sighed. "Look, all I'm saying is, you're a nice guy. He's a nice guy. Why can't you just get along until the end of the contest, then rip each other's heads off?"

Adam opened his mouth, as if to continue arguing, but was interrupted by the red haired guard turning the corner. He was followed by a pissed-off looking David and a quiet-as-ever Conner. _Not that he's been anything anyways,_ Adam thought.

"Good, you're already here." He ushered them back to the ship's bow. Standing with his back facing the horizon, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Good morning. My name is Thomas Palmer. I will be your body guard and informant for the duration of the competition. I-"

"Why do we need a body guard? And what do you mean by "Informant"?" Josh air-quoted. Thomas scowled at him. "Uhh... Sorry. Please, go on."

He cleared his throat and continued, "I work for . He's a retired eccentric with enough money to buy a private island and hire civilians like you for his entertainment. He hired me to keep you in the know, and to keep you safe."

"See, that's the part that worries me," Josh began, "why do we need protection?"

Conner sighed. "Isn't it obvious?" Josh just shrugged at him. "Ten million dollars is enough to drive a lot of people to..." Thomas grinned. "Other means of success." Josh shivered.

The smile ran away from the guard's face as he continued, "As an employee of , I welcome you..."

"Pause for dramatic effect," Adam chimed in, deadpanning. Thomas ignored him.

"...to Apollonius Island."

Then, like something out of a movie, the fog cleared instantaneously around them. The sun broke through the thick clouds and the sky burned as bright as a tropical summer's day. The waves below we're a vibrantly clear blue, the kind you see in the Caribbean.

Conner couldn't help but smile at his new surroundings. _This feels like..._ his thoughts were interrupted, however, by Josh's screaming.

"What the hell?!" They all turned to look at Josh, his winter hoodie wrapped around his head. One of his arms were poking out from the bottom as he struggled to take the heavy garment off. David laughed, his eyes catching Adam's grin-turned-scowl as he reached to free Josh from his heated prison.

The island in question was covered in lush green tropical trees, huge cliff sides and low sandy beaches. A villa sat on a central mountain top, a huge black building between it and the shore. They docked alongside the other ships and were hurried off and up a cobblestone path, where a jeep and driver waited.

"Let's get a move on. He'll be expecting us soon, along with the other contestants." Thomas had said, as the five of them piled into the jeep.

"And what about our stuff?" Josh piped up from the backseat.

"It'll all be taken care of."

After a bit of a drive, through jungle, beach, and a small collection of tiny seaside houses, they arrived at the massive black compound. It was bland and rectangular, with not a window to be seen. It looked more like a futuristic warehouse than anything else. They followed Thomas's quick steps inside, past more suited and silent guards. At the end of a hallway with signs pointing to what appeared to be room numbers, Thomas opened a pair of double doors to reveal a crowded hall.

"Shit," Josh muttered, "There's gotta be, like… a hundred people in here."

"More like four, actually." Adam said, stepping inside. "Crowd's about the same size as the theatre at my high school. Right, Tom?"

Thomas motioned for him to wait as he talked through his earpiece. "We've arrived. Ramirez said we were the last. You're cleared to queue Sinclaire." The sound of whispers and shuffling filled the hall as the lights suddenly dimmed.

"Welcome!" A voice boomed throughout the hall. Everyone turned to the podium on stage as a man in a 'casual' white suit strode out and behind it. He was tall and lanky, with naturally tanned skin and a pair of dark Raybands. You could hear his grin through the speakers. "Welcome, to my humble abode. I am Sinclaire. I hope your stay here is a long one, filled with excitement and adventure and, more importantly, fun!"

"Talk about lame-sauce." Josh whispered to Conner, which promptly granted him David's elbow in his gut.

"As you know, you have been summoned here to compete in a marvelous competition of my make and funding. You have been previously split into groups from your voyage, and these will be your teams for the competition. You may switch teams once the game has begun, at any time and at no penalty." That caused many a whisper to roll through the crowd. "However; all members of the team must take a vote on the addition of a new member, and it must be unanimous. Now, if you all would follow your DM's, they will escort you to your rooms and explain the rest of the game to you. And I get to watch from my villa! Best of luck to everyone!" And with that, he waltzed off the stage.

Thomas led them past all the other contestants and down a long, empty hallway, to a large oak wood door. Inside, sat several couches, a coffee table and a large screen on the far wall. They all sat down.

"Well. That was... A thing."

"Wow, Josh. How insightful." Conner sighed as a knock came from the door.

"He speaks! Quick, alert the media! The navy! The national guar-"

David smacked his hand over Josh's mouth, effectively silencing him. "Shut up."

Josh managed to muffle an "Ow!" As Thomas opened the door. A small, raven haired girl entered the room and nodded at him.

He bowed and said, "Kon'nichiwa, Watanabe-San."


End file.
